


From Fire and Ice

by Captain_Hazard



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Nothing triggering, Will tag if necessary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-09-12 08:07:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9063553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Hazard/pseuds/Captain_Hazard
Summary: The Long Night is over and the living have prevailed. Peace reigns for now, but there is discontent throughout the kingdoms, especially in the heart of a crippled wolf who is tired of being over looked.





	1. Kill the Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Okay this is a new story that I will be working on alongside my currently running one and another that I writing as well. So that means that this will not be updated regularly. It shouldn't be that long either unless I have more ideas on how to extend it, which I might.

“It would be best for the next Lord of Winterfell to know the other lords, he will need to form potential alliances when he is older.”

Bran knew that Jon hadn't meant anything bad by the words he wrote. Rickon was to be his heir since he was, unfortunately, incapable of fathering children. That didn't stop him from bunching up the letter and tossing it to the side in anger.

There must always be a Stark in Winterfell, and Rickon would be carrying on the family line and be the new Lord Paramount of the North. Not the Warden of it though, no, that now belonged to House Manderly, for their service to house Stark, the North and the realm as a whole for protecting a noble heir that would inherit Winterfell.

If that wasn't enough to please the fat craven, his youngest granddaughter would marry Rickon when he was of age. Lord Wyman expected nothing less for putting his family at 'risk' for saving Rickon.

'I should have sent him to the Umber's, they wouldn't have been so greedy when they needed to be recognized,' Bran thought angrily, slamming a fist into one of his dead legs. He stopped mourning for the loss of his legs long ago, but it wasn't fair to Meera. She wanted desperately to have his child and he couldn't give it to her.

He slammed his fist down again.

And Again.

And again.

“You know, if you want to use your legs again, beating them won't help.” A voice said from the other side of the hut.

Bran paused mid swing with a snarl and turned. A man in a red cloak with dark red hair and glowing red eyes smiled pleasantly at him. If he hadn't been in tune with the magic of the land, and if he hadn't felt the power coming off of this stranger, Bran would have called for help.

“Who are you, and how did you get here?” Bran asked quietly with a hint of steel in his tone. He and Meera had woven enough magic into the wood of the hut that forced entry was all but impossible.

“For one so young, and without help, you show actual bravery. I like that, respect it even.” The man noted. “As to who I am, well, you've heard my name amongst my brothers followers. I am Azor Ahai of the East.” He gave a short bow, exposing more of the sword that was strapped to his back. “A pleasure to meet you lord Stark.”

Bran stared at the man in disbelief, “You clearly have power,” He began slowly. “But you expect me to believe that you are the hero of myth?”

“After all that you have seen, after all that you have done, is it truly unbelievable?” 'Azor' asked with amusement.

“If you are who you say you are, then why are you here?” Bran said through gritted teeth. “Shouldn't you be talking with the hero that saved us all from the Walkers? My brother Jon.” He added bitterly. He would always love Jon, there was no question of it. But if he had to hear about his victory and his fucking sword one more time, he would scream.

“Jaehaerys Targaryen, or Jon as you call him, is a worthy heir to my name. But so are you Brandon, and its time that you were given your reward. Jon has a kingdom, and you will have yours.”

“There's only one kingdom united under the Dragons, that's how Westeros works now as it did before.” Bran countered. “And I have no desire to usurp Jon's throne.”

“My boy, who said anything about usurping the throne?” Azor still looked amuse and that irritated Bran.

“Then what are you talking about?” Bran demanded. “How can I have a throne without hurting Jon?”

“By seceding from the rest.” Azor shrugged at his incredulous expression. “The Northern most kingdom has been different from the rest for sometime now. When the Andals took over the majority of them, they stripped them of their identity. They could never do that to the North and they kept to their customs and gods.”

“When the dragons came, there was no field of fire or great tragedy that made the Northmen conquered in the eyes of gods and men.”

“We bowed to the dragons,” Bran pointed out. “Even after the real dragons died. My brother Robb was crowned by his Bannerman because there were no dragons. Now they've returned and I will not put my family or my people in jeopardy.”

“If there was a way to do as I suggest without bloodshed, would you do it?”

“No,” Bran couldn't believe that he was arguing with a supposed mythological figure. This was either a really strange dream, or Azor had nothing better to do than amuse himself by talking with a cripple.

“And why not?” Azor raised his red eyebrows.

“Because it would still hurt Jon,” Bran snapped back. “If I were to secede from everyone else, the other lords might think that he and his wife are weak. Dorne already doesn't like them for various reasons, but they are only one kingdom. If they don't want to play with the rest of us, then that is their prerogative. My seceding from the other kingdoms could undermine my brother and I am not going to do that.”

Azor said nothing for a long moment. Before Bran could start to feel any worry, the hero smiled.

“You are truly worthy of being my heir, Brandon Stark,” Azor said quietly. “As a son of the great god Balerion, and brother to R'hllor, I give you this gift.”

Faster than Bran could blink, Azor had retrieved his sword and plunged into Bran's chest. Bran couldn't even let out a gasp of surprise because his lungs burned. He looked down at the sword that was made of pure fire. So this was the real Light Bringer.

He tried to call out to his wife but he couldn't form the words. The ice sword that was given to him by one of the Freefolk to study was out of his reach. Even the Valyrian Great sword of the Extinct House Forrester was too far for him to grab.

“Kill the boy, and let the man be born.” Bran felt the words wash over him, even as he struggled to stay awake. Meera! he screamed in his mind before darkness consumed him.


	2. Aftermath

When Bran opened his eyes again, he groaned as he felt his head throb.

He coughed a little as the smell of smoke filled his lungs. He swatted at the air and started to stand. It was then he realized that his legs worked and he fell over in surprise and stared at his legs. He patted them a few times and marveled at feeling the sensation that he hadn't felt in years. He didn't even care that he was naked.

“Bran?”

He turned at the sound of his wife's voice. She stood at a distance, her trident aimed at him uncertainly.

“Meera,” Thank the gods that his voice hadn't changed, otherwise she might have killed him. “Can you hand me a cloak?”

“How do I know its you?”

At least his wife is thinking it through instead of just trusting him. Bran glanced around to make sure that no one could hear what he was about to say.

“I warged into Hodor to try and help you and Jojen against those wights. Jojen was gravely wounded despite my help and you had to slit his throat to finish him off. Leaf lit his body on fire while we made our escape. I promised to never speak of that day, knowing how much it hurts you, unless I had no other choice.”

Meera still held her trident but it was no longer aimed at him. She removed her green outer cloak and and walked over to him. She kept out of arms length and Bran didn't take her into his arms for fear of scaring her.

“How did this come to be?” She asked them when they were inside of the castle. He explained as best as he could, knowing that he sounded like a madman.

“So what now?” She asked after he was finished. Bran didn't speak at first but he glanced at the two swords that were in the hut with him before it burnt down with a considering look. The bindings on the ice blade were burnt away as was the handle and on the Forrester sword.

“I have an idea,” He murmured to her as more people looked over at them, the guards rushed forward to help. “I'm fine,” He waved them off when they approached and gaped at him when he stood up. Meera, on the other hand, did not let them stay that way for long.

“Where the fuck were you ingrates?!” She roared in fury. “You were supposed to be watching the hut!”

“My lady -” One of the guards tried to apologize.

“If the next words out of your mouth are not good enough to sway me into letting you keep your head, you will lose it!”

“Meera,” Bran called to her in another murmur. “Enough. Let them go.”

“They should at least explain why they weren't here.” Meera protested.

“They were probably watching Rickon, he is the future of this house after all. I was nothing more than a cripple until now.” Bran didn't mean to sound so bitter nor did he mean to make the guards flinch, but he stopped caring about being polite.

“Go back to guarding my brother, make sure nothing happens to him. And get someone to clean all of this up.” He ordered with a vague gesture, and started walking towards the two weapons that had survived the fire with him.

“My lord -” Someone tried to protest when he reached down to collect them. He ignored them and grabbed the scalding hot metal tang of the Valyrian sword and the point of the ice blade. When he didn't cry out or freeze over, there were more stares in his direction, even one from his wife.

“I gave you orders, carry them out.” He said to guards dismissively. “My wife and I will venture into the Godswood this night, we will not be disturbed.” He walked away, people parting as he moved towards them. Some looked fearful, others looked strangely thoughtful.

He paid them and their whispers no mind. He should have told them not to breathe a word of this to anyone, but considering the influx of minor nobles from White Harbor and other Keeps in the North, word would spread quickly.

* * *

 

Meera followed close behind, holding a torch as they traversed the Godswood.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” She asked him after a moment of awkward silence.

“A pool,” He answered and she blinked.

“There are many pools -”

“The one closets to the center of the Godswood.” He spoke again.

“Bran, that could take days to find,” She protested. “The Godswood is big -”

“There it is.” Bran pointed to where one of the pools glowed brightly. He walked forward quickly but stopped when his wife shouted at him.

“Not one more step!” He looked over at her, the fire illuminating her angry face. “Explain to me why you need to do....whatever it is you need to do right at this second! What is it you need to do? Why are we out here in the cold at this ungodly hour, and why are you not freezing?!”

Bran thought she looked more beautiful as she raged with each question but he answered her lest she get more upset, “I need to go there to forge weapons that will protect the North.”

His wife blinked and then frowned in confusion, “Speak plainly, Bran, you're not making any sense.”

“It won't make sense unless you see what I need to do.” He turned and started walking again, ignoring the huff his wife gave and the comments that followed.

Bran stood over the pool and gazed in. Because it was lit by magic, he could see the bottom and how deep it was.

“I need your dagger and your belt,” He said, placing the swords on the ground and turning to her. She looked at him warily. “Please Meera, there isn't much time to waste.”

Slowly, she did as he asked after she plunged the bottom of the torch into the ground, and handed over her green leather belt and bronze dagger. She had to hold her trousers up since she gave up her belt and Bran withdrew the dagger.

He cut the inside of his palm and let the blood drip into the pool.

“Bran!” Meera hissed and stepped forward. She halted her footsteps as the pool began to boil like water in a pot. Bran dipped his hand into the pool and pulled it back out to reveal that the cut had healed over. He showed it to Meera who looked surprised.

“You -”

“Healed, like Jon does. Azor blessed me like he blessed him. But unlike Jon, I will not waste the blessing I was given.” He looked around until he found what he was looking for.

Two large pieces of Weirwood that had fallen off of the tree in front of him. He picked them up and tossed them into the pool, not bothering to watch as, instead of floating, they sank to the very bottom and turned the pool to a milky white. Bran tossed in the the dagger and belt, turning the water to bronze and green swirls that thickened it like mud.

He did this all silently and with determination. As he picked up the two swords that he brought, his wife spoke again and he looked over at her..

“Bran,” Meera said warningly, taking a step back. “You're starting to scare me.”

“I'm sorry,” Bran murmured, tossing the Valyrian Steel in first, turning the water into a violent shade of orange as it slowly sank below the surface. “Its just, when Azor did what he did, the knowledge I gained from Brynden Rivers seemed small in comparison to the knowledge he gave me. This is an old ritual from the East, which had been adapted to make weapons out of sky metal, like Dawn and the original Ice, when the First Men came here.

“This magic was lost when the Andals came, even the small group of Valyrians that came had not bothered to keep up with their own magic so they could appease those who followed the Seven. Old magic became dormant then, and we almost died out when the White Walkers returned. We may have killed them but I will not let this knowledge go, no matter who it upsets.”

He looked down at the ice blade in his and to the bubbling orange goo in front of him. He hefted the sword over his head and tossed it blade down into the muck. The muck froze into a dark shade of purple on the surface though the blade itself sank below it.

He slowly turned back to his wife, “I am sorry Meera, but there is so much to do before someone tries to take advantage of this. And we'll need to renew our vows, unless you'd rather not?”

“Why would we need to renew our vows?” She asked quietly, sounding a little put out.

“I died Meera,” He explained calmly, watching her face fall. “Just like Jon did when he was blessed, it was how I got my legs back and maybe my cock and balls work now too. We could properly try to have children now.” She blinked at what he was saying since before all of this, he never liked talking about anything to do with sex. “But if anyone finds out that I died, any child we have will be declared a bastard since by law, we are no longer married. Even though I feel that we are in here.”

He patted his heart with one hand solemnly.

“You could be free if you like and I will not force you to marry me again,” He said softly. “But if you wish it, I will gladly swear myself to you once more.”

He turned away to let her think about it and sat in front of the pool. He watched it intently but not so intently that he didn't hear Meera walk towards him and settle down at his side. She placed her head on his shoulder and whispered, “You can't get rid of me that easily, I am yours and you are mine, Brandon Stark.” She vowed firmly. “I'll remarry you, but you better shag me properly on our new wedding night. And no more secrets.”

Bran grinned for the first time in a long time before he placed a kiss on the top of her head, “You have my word.”


	3. Weapons

Meera groaned at the light that streamed on her face from above. She covered her eyes as she opened them to observe the sound that woke her up. She blinked away the sleep and saw someone in green armor that was highlighted by bronze runes and markings, swinging a sword against invisible opponents. The crystal blue blade whistled in the air with each swing.

Wait, crystal?

She glanced around to see if anyone else was here and noticed a spear sticking out of the muck that Bran had created. It wasn't that long, maybe five feet at most just like her fishing trident. The spear point reminded her of a Boar Spear, complete with two wings at the base but unlike most wings which were stubs at best, these two were sharp and curved downwards at the end.

The shaft was white like a Weirwood and it was covered in runes throughout the whole thing. The bottom of the shaft was in the shape of an Awl-pike, the base of which seemed to have merged with the wood. Both it and the tip of the spear were crystal blue like the sword the knight had.

“Its yours,” The man in armor told her and she blinked at him.

“Bran?” She murmured in confusion. The Wolf head helmet was tapped near the face plate and it disappeared to reveal her grinning soon to be husband again.

“Morning.” He said happily.

“Where did you -” Bran rushed forward and struck the underside of the wings on the spear, causing it to fly up and into her direction. It spun in the air before it came down over her head, sideways thankfully. She caught it around the middle and gasped in surprise. Form fitting armor sprouted around her body out of thin air, the colors were the inverse of Bran's armor and thankfully the Cuirass was flat and didn't mold to her breasts otherwise she would look silly. The the metal on the spear had runes magically added to them.

She watched them swirl about and took in her appearance before she turned to Bran, “What is all of this?!” She demanded, her voice ringing inside of her helmet. “And how do I get rid of this?!” She gestured to her face.

“Just tap the chin.”

She did so and tried not to flinch as her face mask disappeared.

“Honestly Bran, what is this?”

“The first step in the defense of the North. I mean to produce more weapons like this or enchant them at the very least. The problem would be making sure that they were a small amount and finding trustworthy people to wield them.”

“I don't think this fits into the peace accords that we all signed Bran.” Meera reminded him sternly. “In fact, I'm pretty sure this violates it.”

“How?” He asked calmly. “Where does it state that the possession of such weapons violates the agreement we all made?”

Meera opened her mouth but paused as she thought back to the document that all the leaders of the various Kingdoms had to sign.

“It doesn't and it won't since Jon possesses the same abilities and weapons that I do, and he wasn't going to give them up so they're not included in the accords,” Bran explained after Meera didn't speak. “He wove spells into the armor and weapons of the new Kingsguard and I plan to do the same here.”

“So you want to give five more people armor like this?” She asked just to be sure that she was understanding his plan.

“Six. Five to match the Kingsguard and another to match the enchantments he did on Dark Sister and the armor for his Queen.”

“She's your Queen to Bran,” Meera sighed warily. “Or do you mean to secede from everyone else after you do your own enchantments?”

“The North won't secede from the Seven Kingdoms, we don't have the man power to do so even if we wanted too. And I don't want to do that.”

“Then what do you want Bran?” Meera's grip tightened on shaft of the spear. She doubted that she could actually hurt Bran given what happened but if he had gone mad when he was given theses gifts...well, she'll figure that out when she has too.

“I don't want to be overlooked anymore,” Bran admitted. “Even before I became a cripple all people every did was walk over me. Sure I was a child and I can forgive that, but it seems that even when they recognized me as a lord, I wasn't afforded the same respect as others because I was a cripple. Even Jon, my own brother, looked down on me even though he didn't mean too. Some of my own lords do as well, and to be honest Meera, I am tired of it.”

“I sound like a brat I know, but I can defend my home now and I will. No one's going to tell me otherwise, Not Jon and his wife, not the Manderly's - “

“And what about me?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I would take what you said into consideration at the very least.” He said with a cheeky smile before he turned serious. “I mean it Meera, I'm done being a rug that people can just walk over.”

“Very well,” Meera nodded her head. “So how are you supposed to choose who to grant a weapon too let alone enchant any more?”

“I have some candidates in mind. We can go over them during breakfast.” He suggested and she nodded her head once more, she would keep an eye on him and watch. If his demeanor changed in anyway that wasn't preferable, she would take care of it.

* * *

 

Rickon slammed into his brother when he saw him, thankfully he had 'removed' the armor he wore and returned the hug. The others in the Stark Household were weary, especially those from White Harbor, Meera noticed.

“They said you died,” Came Rickon's muffled explanation for his behavior.

“I did but I came back,” Bran replied, not even bothering to hide the fact. “I'm not going to leave you, brother mine, even if you do annoy me from time to time.”

Rickon leaned back and looked ashamed, “I'm sorry about what I said the other day. I didn't mean it, honest.” He said to Bran and gave her an apologetic stare. She remembered his words about her father and how he was a coward for not taking a more active role in any of the fighting. She remembered his words about how Bran wasn't worthy of being a lord, if he couldn't convince Jon to reforge Ice and return it to them.

She remembered them all, but Rickon was still yet a boy. They needed to be firm with him, but they needed to be gentle as well, lest they leave the wrong impression on him.

“Don't do it again” Bran said firmly. “Or next time you won't hunt with Shaggydog for a fortnight.” Meera nodded her agreement when Rickon looked to her for help.

Rickon looked indignant before he settled and hugged Bran again, “Does this mean you can have children now, with your legs working again?”

“Maybe, but Meera and I will have to see about that later, we have work to do now. But first we need to eat, have you had anything yet?”

Rickon leaned away and shook his head, “I wanted to see you.”

“Then let us see what the cooks have made. If we're lucky we can get a extra helping of bacon.”

Rickon cheered at the thought and lead the way into the castle proper. Some of the servants avoided them like the plague while others smiled at the two brothers being happy. Meera took note of who did which and reminded herself to look out for who did the former. She also would talk to the those who were loyal to Bran and ask them for help against the White Harbor forces if it were to be necessary.


	4. Bran's New Friends

Bran's new warrior Order was coming along nicely and he was happy with the choices that he made. There was Ser Garrick Tallhart, a son from one of the cadet branches of house Tallhart. He was a man of two and twenty, and was decent enough with a sword.

Daryn Wull of clan Wull was next, he was a big man and so far down the line of succession for his family that his appointment was not going to cause any problems. He was swinging his massive two sided axe with such ease against Ser Garrick, it made Bran wonder if it was an actual weapon and not a toy.

Meera trained with Lyra Mormont and Karsi of the Ice River Clan, the other women in the group. The animosity between the girl of Bear Island and the former Wildling was real and intense but they held off on doing too much damage to each other for now.

Bran would train with Ser Loren Moss and Ser Larence Hornwood to see if they were ready to gain their weapons and armor. Both were strong and sure footed, and neither gave much quarter that Bran could exploit.

Bran was aware of the stares they got and the whispers around them. He knew that Lord Wyman Manderly himself would be coming here even though he had received no raven of his arrival. Jon would be getting a raven as well and would either come here on Dragon back or demand that he come to the Capital personally.

The future was uncertain on that but the smart decision would be for Jon to come here himself and see what was afoot. However, the royal court would talk if the King suddenly left without an explanation and that could be used as fuel against Jon and his wife.

So Bran would have to quickly establish the Order of the Claw and decide if he would bring them with him or keep them North to establish some form of order. Karsi and Daryn would hold the Northernmost territories for him, Garrick and Lyra would hold the West, Larence the East and he and Meera would hold the center and South.

He should have enchanted an entire armies worth of weapons and armor but had he done so, then he would have been accused of some sort of treason or other and another war would have started. His mother had basically started the last one when she kidnapped Tyrion Lannister but it wasn't entirely her fault, he had seen who was truly responsible.

But appearances matter more and his mother was basically the scapegoat of the entire thing in the eyes of the South. He wouldn't give any of them the satisfaction of becoming the next.

* * *

 

I may have to change my opinion of Lord Wyman, he's not nearly as craven as I thought.

Bran eyed the fat lord with cool courtesy while the thought echoed in his mind, “I hope you will find your accommodations fitting under such short notice, Lord Warden.” He said stoically even though it irritated him to address this man in such a manner.

“Winterfell and the Starks have always been welcoming to me and my family, I'm sure the accommodations will be more than satisfactory.” Lord Wyman stood tall and without fear as he faced Bran.

“I do find it strange that no raven came here to announce you, is something amiss?”

“I had received word about what happened to you, Lord Bran, and I came to see if I could be of help.”

“Hmm,” Bran hummed in thought. “I have everything in hand but I am sure that you must miss your granddaughter and would like to see how she is doing.”

“Indeed.”

Bran gestured, “Take Lord Wyman to see his granddaughter.” He told the guards. “After you give him his salt and bread of course.”

As the guards lead the Lord of White Harbor away, Bran sighed in irritation when he left, “The time table just moved up,” He said to his chosen warriors. “Keep training and at the end of the day, meet me in the Godswood.”

He took Meera by the hand and lead her out of the hall, “We need to marry tonight but we need more witnesses outside of friends and family.” He told her.

“And not the smallfolk either, they can be paid to lie about what they saw.”

“So the Winterfell guards that are loyal to us, and those that would report back to Lord Wyman.”

“Yes, that is the best course on such short notice,” She said dryly.

“You know that I have to hide the fact that I can Warg and use the Greensight from those who worship the Seven,” Bran replied sounding just as dry. “I am a walking, talking affront to their entire pantheon of gods. The Manderly's are extremely devout to the Seven, despite their First Men origins. If Lord Wyman ever found out about what I am, let alone the fact that I helped Jon and Daenerys win the war, he might have a conniption.”

“Invite him to our vow renewal,” Meera said after a moment of silence. She looked thoughtful, “You are his overlord but he was given his position as Warden by the Crown. If he's not there, he could claim ignorance and that will cause problems. With him there we will have witnesses to attest to his attendance.”

Bran nodded slowly, that could work, “Rickon should come to the wedding but not to ceremony before it. He'd do nothing but yap about wanting a weapon.”

“You will have to give him something you know” Meera pointed out. “Jon was adamant that Arya and Sansa's husbands have the swords forged from Ice. Rickon will need something for himself when he's a lord.”

That actually irritated him to no end. Ice belonged with them, not separately and not in the hands of Southerners. Sure, Gendry was a good man and treated Arya well, but he and Jon presumed too much. The less said about Willas Tyrell and his family the better.

“I'll give him something when he's older and more mature.” He vowed.

* * *

 

Bran looked upon Meera as Septon Ray bound their hands in ribbon. They exchanged their vows though Meera did hers with slight distaste as she didn't follow the Seven. Their kiss sealed their union and reforged their marriage after his death.

Rickon cheered as the Septon pronounced them man and wife once more along with those who remained loyal to him. His Order gave small smiles but they were watching out for any potential dissent. His loyal subjects cheered while others clapped politely and with slight revulsion he noticed.

Azor, if you and the other gods can hear me, guide me through the treacherous waters I am about to enter. I know that should be enough but I must also ask that you look after my family as well.

He smiled politely at his people when he noticed a slight flicker in the torches which then glowed brighter. We hear you, Warg Lord, a voice whispered in his ear.

Bran gave no reaction outside of smiling more widely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll have a POV of an Order member in another chapter but I figured this would be enough for now. For those that are interested in my other works, I am writing for them when I can but I am a little stumped at the moment. I'll post new stuff when I can.


End file.
